Highway Revenge

by Millard, Nadine

  Unbelievably, after several attempts to find a comfortable position, Evelyn felt her eyelids droop.

  Perhaps when they opened again, it would turn out that this was all a horrid dream.

  “What the hell did you do, Jonathan?” Andrew bellowed as Beast picked his way through the darkness back to where Jonathan still waited.

  “Well, I thought I had saved you from being held up but, since you went hieing off after your attacker, I’m going to assume that that’s not what happened.”

  Jonathan sounded furious, and Andrew felt like wringing his neck.

  “You could have killed her,” he continued to shout in a rage.

  “What? Her?” Jonathan repeated incredulously.

  “Yes, her.”

  “But — but isn’t that the same highwayman who robbed you only a few nights past?”

  Andrew drew a steadying breath and forced himself to calm down.

  In truth, if he had come upon such a scene, he would have shot first, too. But damn it! She could be seriously hurt. And she was alone. Alone and God only knew where.

  “Yes. The very same. Except, contrary to what your father insisted on saying to save face, the robber was not a burly man but a slip of a girl,” he explained, his tone still fraught with tension.

  “What the devil were you doing with her, then?” Jonathan barked.

  “I was trying to convince her to give up such a dangerous occupation. And it was working, too. Until you bloody well shot her.”

  “She was holding a gun to your chest, Andrew.”

  “She was playing, Jonathan.”

  The men glared at each other, neither one willing to concede that the other wasn’t the most unreasonable man to ever walk the face of the earth.

  “I want to ask why you were so interested in the girl, but I’m not sure I want to hear the answer,” Jon spoke at last.

  “For God’s sake, man. There was nothing going on,” Andrew said without guilt, for it was the truth. No need to say that the primary reason for such a truth was Jonathan’s cousin.

  The waters this evening were muddied enough.

  There was silence once more before Jonathan suddenly turned the air blue with an oath a sailor would have been proud of.

  “Are you telling me I shot a girl?” he asked, sounding slightly sickened.

  “Yes. That is what I’m telling you.”

  “Christ,” Jon whispered.

  “Indeed,” Andrew bit out.

  “Well, it’s not as though I did any damage.”

  Andrew raised his eyebrows.

  “I’m sorry. No damage? I know we’ve been in some rather violent scrapes before, Jon, but last I checked, bullets were still considered to be something of the damaging variety.”

  Jonathan scowled at Andrew’s sarcasm.

  “I mean, I didn’t shoot to hurt. I shot to shock. I had thought that we would be hauling a hardened criminal in front of the magistrate.”

  Andrew almost sagged with relief at Jonathan’s words. Jonathan’s skills with a gun were second-to-none. If the man said he didn’t cause serious injury, then he didn’t.

  “What now?”

  Andrew looked off in the direction she’d run, but, really, what could he do?

  “Nothing, I suppose,” he answered both himself and Jonathan.

  “So, shall we return to the house?”

  “Yes, I suppose we should.”

  They turned and made their way back.

  “You wouldn’t have found her, you know,” Jonathan said.

  “I know.”

  “She got too much of a head start, Ash, and presumably she knows these woods better than you do.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you think you’ll see her again?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so. She was about to leave the area as it happens.”

  “Do you think she will be all right?”

  “I hope so,” Andrew responded quietly. “But I don’t suppose I’ll ever know for sure.”

  The two men made their way back home in silence, each one deep in his own thoughts.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “And, of course, poor Mrs. Carter was so very pleased to have her things returned. She was quite beside herself after her ordeal, you know.” Aunt Millicent was in full flow, and Evelyn dearly wished to cover her ears but that was an impossibility, not the least because she couldn’t lift her left arm to anywhere near her ear.

  She had miraculously had a good few hours’ sleep, but the pain in her arm was as bad as ever, and it meant her tolerance for Aunt Millicent’s chatter was at an absolute low.

  Having missed breakfast that morning she had found the family ensconced in the drawing room, minus Jonathan and Andrew. She had struggled to put herself into a gown that had long sleeves and was something she could put on herself. The gown she had settled on buttoned at the front and was a pale straw colour. Evelyn cursed the fact that as a young, single lady she was not encouraged to wear darker, bolder colours. Not that Aunt Millicent cared a jot about Evelyn or what she wore, but it did impact on her aunt and, therefore, the rules of Society would be adhered to, even here in the country, which was nonsensical but not worth fighting about.

  She was glad of the fact, however, since she needed to prepare herself not to react when she saw either of them.

  “Goodness, Evie, you do look pale this morning. ‘Tis no wonder you stayed abed later than usual.” Anna had come and grasped her hands, and it was all Evelyn could do not to wince as even the slightest jostling of her arm pained her. “Come, a cup of tea and one of Cook’s delicious pastries will set you to rights.”

  “For pity’s sake, Anna do not fuss over her so.”

  Aunt Millicent had leaned forward in her chair and snatched the last of the pastries from the plate in front of her, but Evelyn hadn’t minded. The brandy she’d consumed the night before had ensured a distinct lack of appetite that morning.

  Anna had grimaced sympathetically and then poured Evelyn a much-appreciated cup of tea.

  “Mama has been filling me in on the startling news of Mrs. Carter. Apparently there has been another robbery,” Anna told Evelyn, her amber eyes glowing with excitement.

  Evelyn had remained silent and allowed Aunt Millicent to launch back into her mostly exaggerated version of events.

  In fact, they had been so exaggerated by Mrs. Carter and then, in turn, by Aunt Millicent that the story sounded as far removed from the actual events as possible.

  Evelyn didn’t even pretend to be listening, since she knew her aunt couldn’t care less whether she listened or not.

  Looking across the room, she noted with interest that Mr. Grant and her uncle were sitting, heads bent toward each other, having what appeared to be an extremely intense and serious conversation.

  Of course she couldn’t hear them, but Uncle Geoffrey looked furious, and Mr. Grant, though appearing nonchalant, had his fingers clenched into fists.

  The door opened and Thornton, the long-serving family butler, entered with a calling card.

  “Captain Townsend, ma’am,” he announced, presenting the tray holding the card to Aunt Millicent.

  Evelyn and Anna shared a look of incredulity, and Evelyn, though she had no idea of any history between Anna and the captain, reached out and clutched Anna’s hand. Thankfully, her cousin was sitting to her right. If she’d been close to her injured arm, Evelyn wouldn’t have been able to offer anything but a grimace of agony.

  Aunt Millicent’s face creased into a smile, and she began fussing with her hair and gown.

  “Captain Townsend, I declare. I don’t believe he has called on anyone since his return to the village. What a coup. Thornton, bring him right in. Anna, ring the be—“

  “We are not at home, Thornton.”

  Uncle Geoffrey’s voice cut across Aunt Millicent’s chattering, and she turned to look at him in amazement.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, aghast. “We cannot turn him away. He is an absolute
sensation, Geoffrey. Everybody is talking about him. Disappeared years ago, and then, years later, Mrs. Townsend receives word that not only is he alive and well, but has made an absolute fortune everywhere. India, even I believe. Why, he was the youngest captain to—“

  “Millicent,” Uncle Geoffrey barked, “we are not home.”

  Evelyn looked from her aunt to her uncle in amazement. It was rare for Uncle Geoffrey to care a whit about who came and went in the household. Rarer still for him to interfere in Aunt Millicent’s social calendar.

  For a moment, it looked as though her aunt would defy her husband, but then she instructed Thornton to send the man away.

  Evelyn turned to speak to Anna about what on earth was going on and was more amazed still to see that her cousin had leapt to her feet.

  “Mama, I, ah, I just wanted—“

  “Sit down, Anna.”

  This time it was Mr. Grant who had barked the instruction, though his tone was icy cool compared to her uncle’s flustered hot-headedness.

  Evelyn’s temper flared at Mr. Grant’s treatment of his wife, and Uncle Geoffrey dropped even lower in her estimation as he remained mutinously quiet.

  Anna looked as though she would argue, and Evelyn hoped against hope that she would, but then, she released a soft sigh and sat back down.

  There was a tense silence before Aunt Millicent broke it with another inane story, this time about the dance in the Assembly Rooms coming up.

  “Evie…” Anna leaned close and whispered urgently in her ear. “…Evie, please go to Lucas, I mean C-Captain Townsend.”

  “What?” Evelyn whispered back incredulously.

  “Go, quickly before he leaves. Tell him that father — no. No, just find out if he is to go to the dance.”

  Evelyn stared at Anna. Whatever had gotten into her unflappable cousin?

  “Anna, I’ve never even met the man. I can’t just—“

  “Please, Evie.” Anna’s grip was painful. “Please, just ask him. Before he leaves.”

  Evelyn was baffled by Anna’s behaviour, but obviously this was important to her, and Evelyn would do anything for Anna, so she gave a reassuring nod of her head.

  “Aunt Millicent, will you excuse me. I-I forgot to fetch my book from—“

  Aunt wasn’t even attempting to listen, so without another word, Evelyn swept from the room and moved as quickly as she could to the entrance hall.

  She reached the hall just as a footman was opening the door for, she assumed, Captain Townsend to take his leave.

  “C-Captain?” she called, nervous now. She’d never even set eyes on the man before. He would think her insane, chasing him down like this.

  The impossibly tall stranger turned, and Evelyn was struck by how incredibly handsome he was.

  He had rich, chestnut hair that was slightly longer than the Brutus-cut preferred by most gentlemen of the ton. Lord Ashdon kept his own short but not overly styled like the fops of the day. His eyes were a deep, dark blue, closer to navy, really. Not strikingly bright like Ashdon’s. Of course, Ashdon’s were that mossy green that was so distracting…

  “Miss?” Captain Townsend interrupted her musings, and Evelyn started. He was gazing at her expectantly, looking for all the world like it was an everyday occurrence to be accosted by strange women in hallways.

  It probably was for him, come to think of it. Evelyn could see how attractive he was. She wondered idly why she was so wholly unaffected by him, whereas with Ashdon—

  “Miss, are you quite well?”

  Captain Townsend interrupted her again, and Evelyn’s face flushed.

  She was already making a mess of this, and she hadn’t uttered a single word.

  “Yes, yes. I am. Well, I mean. Quite.”

  His gaze was going from polite to a little frightened. She’d frighten him off before she got the chance to even introduce herself if she kept it up.

  Taking a breath, she smiled in what she hoped was a friendly, non-insane way.

  “Captain Townsend, I am Miss Spencer, Anna’s cousin. I believe we saw each other many years ago but never actually talked.”

  His frown cleared, and he stepped forward, bowing and offering a much more natural smile.

  “A pleasure, Miss Spencer.”

  Evelyn glanced quickly at the waiting footman then turned back to the captain.

  “Captain, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time. There is a matter I would like to discuss with you.”

  “Of course, Miss Spencer.”

  Evelyn turned and led the way to a small reception room to their left.

  “If you please, Captain?” she said, indicating that he should precede her into the room.

  Glancing at her curiously, he did as she bid.

  Once inside, Evelyn smiled apologetically.

  “I understand that this is rather unorthodox, Captain, but I wondered — that is, my cousin, Anna, wondered — if you would be attending the ball at the Assembly Rooms next Saturday? She bid me ask you since she is… is indisposed right now.” Evelyn clasped her hands together then immediately unclasped them as a pain shot through her arm.

  “Anna — that is, Mrs. Grant wanted you to ask me?” the handsome captain repeated, and, for a moment, his eyes filled with such joy, such hope that Evelyn was momentarily speechless.

  What on earth had happened with Anna and Captain Townsend? For it was as plain as day that they were more than childhood acquaintances.

  “Yes, yes, she was quite insistent that I should ask you,” Evelyn confessed stepping closer to him. “She would have come herself, only her husband — well…” Evelyn trailed off uncertainly. What could she say that would explain the relationship between Mr. Grant and Anna?

  Her words were like shutters, blocking her from seeing anything other than cool indifference on the man’s face, in his eyes.

  “Please, tell your cousin that I doubt I will be able to attend,” Captain Townsend answered.

  Evelyn thought something had shifted in his mind, but she didn’t know the man. Perhaps this was merely his way.

  “That is a shame, Captain. I know she wanted to see you there. Perhaps another time,” she said politely.

  “Yes, perhaps,” he answered, but Evelyn didn’t believe him. “If you’ll excuse me?” he said with a bow and turned toward the door.

  Just before he left, however, he turned back to Evelyn.

  “Is Anna — is she happy?”

  Evelyn paused before speaking. She had no idea who this man was now after all these years, had no idea what his history with Anna was. And, of course, one should never speak ill of a family member, even through marriage. Plus, family business was family business…

  And yet.

  There was something about the captain that made Evelyn trust him.

  “No, Captain,” she answered quietly, “I do not think she is.”

  Her words seemed to pain him, and Evelyn felt immediately sorry.

  Rushing over, she placed a hand on his arm reassuringly.

  “Anna is strong as an ox, Captain. I am sure you know that.”

  Captain Townsend closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, he looked as coolly composed as ever.

  “Thank you, Miss Spencer.” Captain took her hand in his and bent over it before straightening to look at her. “I can see that she has at least one person who cares only for her happiness.”

  Evelyn smiled at his kind words and was about to issue a heartfelt thanks when the door, which had been partially closed for privacy, swung open with a bang.

  “Interrupting something, am I?” Ashdon was standing in the doorframe, snarling like a cornered animal, and Evelyn felt a little frightened at his ferocious expression before she realised it was trained on the captain.

  Damping down her burst of pleasure at seeing him, she stepped back from the captain, who let her hand drop without protest, and turned to Ashdon with a smile.

  “My lord,” she said pleasantly ignoring the fact that his glare ha
dn’t left Captain Townsend. “May I introduce Captain Townsend, recently returned to the village? Captain, this is Viscount Ashdon, a friend of Jonathan’s who is staying with the family.”

  Evelyn paused and looked from one giant man to the other, awkwardly waiting for one of them to react.

  Captain Townsend made a slight but polite-enough bow.

  “A pleasure, my lord,” he said.

  Andrew’s answer was what could only be described as a grunt.

  What on earth was the matter with him?

  She glanced nervously at the captain, but the man looked unaffected and even slightly amused by Ashdon’s strange behaviour.

  “I will take my leave then,” he said, turning once again to the door. “Miss Spencer, it has been a great pleasure,” he said, and his grin widened at Andrew’s muttered oath and what sounded like threats of bodily harm. “My lord,” he said turning to Andrew, “it has been — enlightening.”

  And sweeping his hat atop his head, he marched from the room.

  The silence Captain Townsend left in his wake was, for Evelyn, excruciating. She was remembering Andrews kisses yesterday morning, their encounter last night, worrying that he had somehow discovered it had been she. And he looked as though he were in a thundering rage.

  “Lord Ashdon, I ho—“

  “Who the hell was that?” he snarled.

  Evelyn’s jaw dropped at his tone.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me,” he repeated, storming into the room and kicking the door shut, fully shut, behind him.

  “I told you not above two minutes ago, not that you were listening, obviously,” Evelyn snapped feeling immediately angered by his tone. “That was Captain Townsend, a friend of Anna’s.”

  “Lucas Townsend?” he fired out, looking surprised.

  Evelyn was momentarily distracted from her ire.

  “You know him?” she asked.

  “Ah — no. No, I just heard of him,” he answered sheepishly.

  Evelyn frowned, but she was too riled up by his ridiculous behaviour to be side-tracked now.

  “How dare you come in here and treat a guest like that?” she said, placing her hands on her hips and immediately removing them with a wince as another inconvenient pain shot up her arm.